the
truth - yes, the truth! That truth which is so abhorrent to our
enemies!

Actually, the truth is that they devoured us. It was like when a pack
of wild savannah dogs, mad with lust for blood and protein, fling
parts of a carcass into the air and another one catches it in its
teeth. We would come to find out that they were passing the
controllers between one another each round, audibly chortling,
exultant like children repeatedly striking a pinata. We didn’t expect
to do well, as I suggested before - but the brutal savagery of the
defeat left a deep impression. There was something complete and just
and final about their victory. It was a natural outcome, seemingly
rooted in physical laws, so that when the grim and grinding event
reached its completion there was no way to controvert it. When the
universe authors your demise, you have no recourse. There is no means
by which you can countermand that bleak grammar.

After the flogging was complete, I suggested that we were well and truly even for any past transgressions. They suggested that this was the case. So then we made today’s comic, which will - I believe - reveal even richer veins of social discomfort.

So, the gauntlet of a high-technology stealthsuit studded with light
sensors has been thrown - we challenged them to a round of Splinter
Cell, honor demands it, and I understand the tussle will go down next
week. Last I heard, they were going to get their devious allies the
Frag Dolls to play for them.
We are unphased! You can field two androids designed expressly for
this purpose, as far as we’re concerned. You can field Hulk Hogan and Our
Lord Jesus Christ.